


This Changes Nothing

by Ladyofwarandmercy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 2x10 Speculation, F/M, Feels, Love Confessions, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyofwarandmercy/pseuds/Ladyofwarandmercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye finds a note in Grant's cell. And she finally reads it the moment she needed to hear what Grant had to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Even if you are not American, there is plenty in this world for which to be thankful! You are alive and reading this, after all!

After about thirty minutes of trying to get someone to notice the camera in the cell, Skye sat down on the bunk. The cell still smelled like Grant. Skye found it both comforting and disturbing. She had a vague recollection of a lesson with Grant, what felt like a million years ago. She remembered him saying something about a special place to hide a message in a prison cell. For grins, she tried one of the spots Grant had told her about. Much to her surprise, a folded piece of paper came out. Scribbled on the outside was simply, _“Skye,”_ in what she knew to be Ward’s handwriting. She stuffed it in her pocket, and tried a little more to try and get someone’s attention….

Later that night, Skye almost opened the folded paper, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to read anything Ward had to say to her. She put it in her jewelry box, along with her actual earrings, and a few other bits of jewelry from piercings she let close. But every night since, she’d open that box, pick it up, and think about it. The news hit the wires about Grant’s brother and parents. She thought her revulsion at the thought of him crossing off his family would keep her away. But she remembered the things Grant would say about his family. Hell, Grant turned to John freaking Garrett out of what his family did to him. Maybe she couldn’t judge Grant so easily. The note remained unread, but wasn’t thrown away.

And then she had that conversation with Raina. Where Skye began to realize what she actually might be, and what it all meant. Skye was almost shaking too much to open the box, much less unfold the note. 

_My Dearest Skye,_

_I hear “Skye” is not actually your given name, but as Skye is the name you chose for yourself, I am happy to call you Skye. I don’t know how, but I will get out of this cell, and I will find out the whole truth about you. Your name, your origins, why HYDRA killed your mother---everything I had to be circumspect about before. When I went back to John Garrett, I certainly didn’t want him figuring out I knew what happened to the Hunan 084, if he didn’t know already. So I couldn’t research as much as I could have. Hopefully by this time I have told you all the facts I know. I have heard more, but it is all speculation, rumors, and hearsay. You deserve facts, not speculation, rumor, and hearsay. Maybe by this time, you have heard things about me, or even about yourself, that shock and scare the Hell out of you. But let me tell you one thing, Skye:_

_This changes nothing. Nothing you are, nothing you can become, nothing you can do, can change how I feel about you, Skye. You can find me wherever I go, come to my door with scaly skin and purple tentacles, and I will still look at you as the light in my life you have become. You have to forgive me if I come on too strong at times. I have never been in love before. You see, I never used to believe in love until I met you. But love is real. It is more powerful than_ (there was some scratching out here) _a whole lot of things. It is stronger than my loyalty to any cause or organization. Skye, I would deliver HYDRA, SHIELD, anybody, nobody, whatever threatens you, bound and gagged with a bow around its neck to keep you safe. If you trust nothing else about me again, trust in that. I love you, Skye. You don’t ever have to love me back. I just want this world, this universe to carry on with you in it, alive and well._

_Always yours, for whatever that means to you,_

_Grant_

Skye composed herself before leaving her bunk. She felt the wheels touch down, as May landed the plane. The three of them, May, Skye, and Raina, were going to go to the mysterious city, but on their terms, not Whitehall’s. With a lurch, Skye realized Grant would be there, right alongside Whitehall and her father. Grant had lied about so much, but deep in her heart, Skye knew what Grant had written was the truth. She had to trust in Grant’s love, even if now she had nothing else to trust. From what Raina had told them, Skye wasn’t sure what was going to happen. But she had to trust that Grant would make sure she survived it. Skye chuckled momentarily at the absurdity. There Skye was, having to trust in the love of a liar to get her through the scariest thing she was about to go and do. But she remembered Grant’s eyes. When he looked at her, from the moment in the interrogation room after he kidnapped her from her van, that shocked look when she first kissed him, to the last time she entered his cell before Coulson had him shipped off to his brother, Grant’s eyes never changed. If eyes were windows to his soul, Skye had to trust in the love she saw in his eyes. And that love never changed. In his words, it never would change. And now, it was about to undergo its greatest test yet. “Hope you like tentacles, Grant,” she said quietly, before strapping on her weapons and preparing to see the city of her birth.


	2. Chapter 2

After they were sure the Bus had gotten away, both Grant and Skye relaxed in the cockpit. As crazy as things had gotten, Skye had not had a chance to talk with Grant since he had taken her from the Bus to the HYDRA plane. Grant picked up a water bottle from the side of the pilot’s seat and took a long swig.

“Okay, Ward, so you say you picked a side,” Skye began, “And…. _this_ just happened. I’m confused. And, um, by the way, I found the note you left in the cell.” Grant’s smile into the bottle caused a little to drip out of the side of his mouth. He wiped his cheek with his sleeve as he put the bottle back. “Shouldn't it be obvious, then, which side I have chosen? I've chosen your side, Skye.” Skye rolled her eyes. “I am not a side, Grant. I am an agent of SHIELD, and you are a wanted man.” Ward engaged the autopilot and turned the pilot’s seat to face her. Idly, Skye noticed some bags under his eyes. She tried to mentally reprimand herself for caring, but that internal dialogue she has had since Providence with that silly romantic girl still in love with Ward would remind her that she had just left the Bus on Ward’s say-so. 

“Skye, you are something much more than just an Agent of SHIELD. And based on, let’s just say, something Daniel Whitehall told me, that something puts a big, fat target on your back. Did I drink Raina’s Kool-Aid and decide I trust your father completely? No. If I trust anybody, it’s you. But I think whatever your father has planned for you needs to play out. Now more than ever. You’re not the only one getting nightmares, here.” 

Skye frowned at him. “I didn't say anything about nightmares.” Grant gave her a skeptical look. “You are using concealer under your eyes. You never used concealer under your eyes before. And…it’s not my place to tell you what Whitehall told me. But when your father tells you, you won’t sleep any better, I am afraid. It’s about your mother. It’s about how she died, and…” Skye could see rage boiling underneath his eyes, “…What people like Daniel Whitehall would do to someone like you. Your father’s idea is to unlock that potential in you. And I think that’s an absolutely splendid idea. As long as you have unlocked potential, the wrong kinds of people would be interested in you, and you wouldn’t have the power to fight them. Unlock that potential, and you can fry any Daniel Whitehall who comes along like an egg, or turn him into a toad or something.”   
“The worst part of being in that vault was knowing they were putting you in the field, where HYDRA could get at you. My last suicide attempt came after Coulson told me HYDRA had taken you. He was trying to get me to tell them who was left in charge in North America. Garrett was obviously dead, Pierce was dead, Sitwell was dead, and they were the North American HYDRA bigwigs I knew. I didn't know about Whitehall until I got it out of Bakshi. But I knew someone in HYDRA was interested in vivisecting latent Gifted people. It’s why I kept trying to mislead Garrett about your origins. I didn't realize how much he knew about Hunan, that he had started to guess, and that’s one of the reasons he showed up after you were shot. When Coulson told me they had taken you to their North American HQ, I was sure you were dead. And there I was in that goddamn cage. Unable to rescue you, unable even to avenge you. The regrets about what I did were bad enough. Knowing that I had practically gift-wrapped you for those…butchers. It was too much. I begged him to let me die. Begged him. He got this weird look on his face, and then he ordered Jemma to sedate me. That was the last I saw of him before he yelled at me just before they came to transfer me.”

Skye’s face was as white as the walls of the cockpit. “Whitehall _vivisected_ my mother?” Grant closed his eyes and nodded. When he opened them again, Skye was uncomfortably reminded of the time Grant had dealt with the Berserker Staff. “He bragged about it to me. HE BRAGGED! It took every ounce of my training not to cut that smug look off his Nazi face with the closest dull object. And your father told me he later discarded her body on a trash heap. And that is when he found her. Cut into pieces.” A tear rolled down Grant’s cheek. “Every night since, I have had nightmares where I find you like that. Every night. I don’t judge your father for losing it after what happened to him, all things considered. At the very least, your father had you. If I lose you, I have nothing.”

This was all too much for Skye, who was starting to cry. “You don’t have me, Ward. How can you lose me? And maybe you should have thought about having nobody before you killed your family!” Grant’s eyes went from angry to sad. “Would you believe that when we went to the house, I was just going to let Christian yell at our parents while I poured the gasoline? I was going to herd my parents in the car, tie them up, kill Christian, burn down the house, and drop my parents off a few towns over. That would have been enough to make the impression I needed on Daniel Whitehall. I forgot that despite his public anti-gun stance, he was enough of a hypocrite to carry his own gun anyway. He shot both of our parents. I ran in when I heard the shots, and had my own fight with Christian. Fortunately, his pistol was the same make and model as mine. So when I shot him under the chin, it would take detailed ballistic analysis to tell that there were two guns.” 

Skye rolled her eyes. “I believe you, but this is not an improvement!” Skye would have said before that Grant was getting mad, but she had just seen Grant mad. Grant was getting annoyed. “Pardon me if I figured the team was having enough fun dealing with HYDRA, and didn't need my brother in the mix. Trust me, Skye, my brother and even my parents were no great loss. I needed to get close to Whitehall. I told you I would do anything to keep you safe. I would kill anything that threatened you. Anything, anyone, any organization. Christian would have had you kidnapped and turned over to HYDRA just to flush me out. He might have filmed the whole thing in hopes of tormenting me with it.” The uncomfortable reminder of her mother’s fate had Skye sobbing openly. Grant got out of the seat and went over to her. She got out of the co-pilot’s seat and practically jumped in his arms. “Grant. Please tell me whatever happens you will keep me safe. I don’t know what kind of monster I will become.” Grant smiled sadly as he cuddled her. “That’s my job, as far as I’m concerned. It doesn't pay well, but it’s doing the right thing. I love you for what you are, and I only want you to become what you are meant to be because it will help you keep yourself safe. I’m here no matter what.” Skye broke the embrace, cradled Grant’s chin in her hand, and stared soberly in his eyes. “Would you even love me if I had tentacles?” The smile met Grant’s eyes, and his chest shook with a suppressed chuckle. “Yes, even if you had tentacles. You can’t become something I can’t love. I’ll even wear a Japanese schoolgirl outfit if you want me to.” They both laughed at the off-color joke. Skye quickly pulled him into a kiss. “I love you too, Grant. I really suck at hating you, you know. I like loving you better. Let me know when we get close. I guess I better clean up before I meet my father. They kissed one more time, then Grant Ward settled back into the pilot’s seat as Skye went to the back of the plane.


	3. Chapter 3

Six months later, Skye and the rest of the team stumbled back from a mission. There was a sticky note on her door to come immediately to Coulson’s office. Skye decided to clean the dust off before reporting. When she arrived, Steve Rogers bounced out of the seat in front of Coulson’s desk, and wrapped Skye in a bear hug. “SKYE! It’s great to see you! I finally found that autographed baseball I told you about.” Skye smiled, “No way! The one with Murderer’s Row’s autographs?” Steve indicated a plastic case in which the priceless baseball was now encased. “The very one! Looks like the Smithsonian missed this one going through all my stuff when I went in the drink back in ’45. Whoever it was wasn't a baseball fan.” Coulson cut in, “I can believe it. They had some secretary go through my grandmother’s jewelry when she died, and she listed the ring with a 5 carat Burmese ruby as ‘costume jewelry.’ If you send someone to do a task who isn't an expert, you can miss something big.”

Steve sat back in his chair, and motioned Skye to the chair next to his. “This brings me to my point, Phil. I’m from Brooklyn. I knew some guys I knew were underworld, but that was 70-odd years ago, and they weren't Russian. I’m Captain flag-waving law-and-order America now. I have strength, I have skill, but I’m a babe in the woods when it comes to knowing people who know people who know things circa 2000-something-teen, and what kind of crook is gonna talk to me now? What got me to Bucky was skills I don’t have. But he had them. I owe this guy what my friend Sam calls ‘a solid.’ A really big ‘solid.’ I could break Bucky out of any haystack you throw at me, but there’s a lot of haystacks out there. I know you think he’s a fink, but this Grant fella helped me find my best friend in the world. Bucky is sitting pretty now in the psych ward at The Reef while they try to unscrew his head. And I owe that to Grant Ward. He wants to parley, I say you guys oughta parley.”

Skye rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, you want me to go.” Coulson picked a sheet of paper off his desk for emphasis, “The note specified myself, Fitz, or, and I quote, ‘any Gifted who has not had recent odd behavioral changes.’ You have changed, Skye, but you don’t seem to be any more ‘off’ than usual. And you have a past with him.” Steve smiled, “He’s sweet on you.” This earned him a death stare from Skye.

Three days later, she gave Grant Ward that same death stare as every gun in the small office in Houston was pointed at her, including Grant’s. “Come ON, Ward. Who did you _think_ Coulson was going to send?” That moment, her father walked in from a back door in the office. He was the only person in the room without a gun trained on Skye. She fumed, noticing Ian Quinn was there. He was wearing the same outfit he wore when he shot her. “Can you not hold guns on my daughter, please?” Doctor Johnson said, nonplussed, and refusing to join the tension in the room, “The pizza should be here any minute.” Ian Quinn quipped back, “They call this neighborhood Gunspoint for a reason, sir. Won’t be anything he hasn't seen before.” Cal took in Quinn’s appearance. “Terrance, what are you doing?” Ian Quinn looked abashed, then morphed into a teenaged Goth boy. Skye flinched in shock. The teenager smiled and lowered his already bad stance. “Uncle Grant hates that guy, ma’am. But you’re still afraid of him. I’m uh-such a fan of yours! I can’t believe I’m meeting Skye her very own self!” Terrence flinched and looked at Grant. “I know she shot you, Uncle Grant, but she’s more curious than anything.” Agent 33, Skye noticed, began to lower her weapon. Grant’s remained steadily trained on her. “Uncle Grant, do you trust my gift or don’t you? If I say she’s not planning anything funny, she’s not planning anything funny. She can’t even block me worth a crap.” “Terrance,” Grant said reprovingly, “Language.” But Grant began to lower his weapon. As he holstered it, the door buzzed behind Skye. Terrance grabbed the cash Grant handed him and paid for the pizza. Agent 33, who seemed to have her old face again, grabbed a metal briefcase and a veiled hat. She used the hat to gesture Skye into the conference room. 

As Terrance put the pizzas on the conference table, Agent 33 pulled her hair into a ponytail. “Skye, right? Or do you go by Daisy? Cal likes to call you Daisy. She put out her hand for Skye to shake, “I’m Kara Palamas. You could call me Agent 33, but I’m not an agent of anything right now. The pizza isn't that great, but they deliver here. I think Cal and Grant want to take you out for barbecue later, but here, we won’t be overheard.” Grant walked into the conference room, finally. He made sure not to turn his back to Skye, and took the chair furthest from her in the room. As Skye looked around the table, she saw Agent 33 put the heavily-veiled hat on, then remove the nanomask she apparently had been wearing. Doctor Johnson squeezed her shoulder as he took the chair between them. “It took all my skill to have that burned nanomask taken off her face. Then I had to make her some new eyelids, make sure what was left of her nose stayed open enough to breathe, and build enough mouth and lips that she can talk normally. But she wouldn't need the mask if Whitehall had gotten her immediate medical attention. She can’t eat through a nanomask, hence the hat. She gave me a big hug the first day she had something solid to eat. Apparently, Whitehall fed her intravenously. I may have been a plastic surgeon to the stars before I took my trip to China, but Whitehall made sure I didn't have enough to work with. And all of this because she didn't move out of her apartment quickly enough.”

“Come again?” Skye was curious. Agent 33 answered between bites of pizza behind her veil, “HYDRA managed to bring enough guys to bring me down in my own apartment. I spent three days on what they call the Faustus Device before I….broke.” Skye’s eyes were saucers. “You were _brainwashed_? Leo and I _thought_ you were brainwashed. Especially when they didn't take the nanomask off you.” Grant cut in, “Which brings us to the point of this meeting. I asked for Coulson, Leo, or any Gifted who has not exhibited stranger than usual behavior. There is a reason for this. Doctor Cal, would you care to explain?” Skye’s father finished his pizza, and smiled. “Gladly. From what Grant was able to steal from Whitehall in that book you shot up, the Faustus Device is only…sort of…” Terrence piped up, helpfully, “Remember when Hermione made polyjuice potion, but got hair from Millicent Bulstrode’s cat instead of Millicent herself for the potion? It didn't turn Hermione into a cat all the way, and it didn't leave her human all the way, right?” Skye nodded, “Neither fish nor fowl.” Doctor Cal chuckled, apparently recognizing Skye using a phrase he liked to use, “Yes, kind of like that. The machine works okay on most average, normal, healthy humans without things like Gifts or Kree DNA all in their nervous systems. Trying to use the device on someone who is Gifted or has Kree DNA, or has brain damage, can lead to unpredictable results.” Skye nodded, understanding. “Coulson has GH-325, which is made from Kree, I have GH-325, and am also Inhuman, and Fitz’s brain damage would have been worse if he were subjected to brainwashing. Okay, so who is brainwashed?” Grant finally saw his cue, “If the remaining mole on the team is a sleeper, this individual needs to be able to be inserted right back into the team without anybody noticing anything fishy. If the Faustus Process goes wrong…” Dr Cal finished the thought, “My favorite scientific term to describe it is, nuttier than squirrel shit.” There was a chuckle around the table, but Skye was too shocked to laugh. “There is a mole? I thought you were the mole, Ward.” Grant ostentatiously finished his slice of pizza before answering Skye. 

“When Garrett assigned me to your team, I was communicating with someone on the Bus through dead drops. By the time I started to care who it was, Garrett had shown up to personally direct me. When I was imprisoned, one of the stories Coulson and May were telling me was that a sleeper I somehow failed to warn them about had killed you. They knew how I felt about you, and used it against me as much as they could. I was not going to talk any more than I did, until you asked the questions. Until then, I was not assured you were alive and safe. When you turned me over to my brother, I saw all of my suspects still on the team, except May. By the time I could account for May, I had re-infiltrated HYDRA in order to look for Cal. I saw no references to trying to re-activate the mole, but I did find out more of Garrett’s team had survived the Cybertek incident than I had thought. This told me two things: First, that the second mole was likely something Garrett did on his own, and secondly, that it was just a matter of time before HYDRA would figure out this mole’s presence, and what passwords Garrett had installed in the mole to activate her.”

Skye gave Grant a cross look. “We could have used this knowledge a year ago, Ward.” Grant fired a skeptical look back at her. “I had firsthand experience with the way SHIELD treats prisoners. What you would do to Palamas, here, she wouldn't deserve. You want to suck the air out of Jemma’s lungs? Or maybe you can package up May with a neat little bow for Mister Bahrain if he makes a nice offer to Coulson.” Skye was standing up, furious, “Go to Hell!” Ward had hands on hips, “Just got out, and you can’t send me back! Maybe you can shoot us all in the back. Maybe Coulson will give you a cookie this time.” Cal stood up and physically got between the two. “Fighters to your corners. Both of you need water! Plenty of time to fight when we get to that Playground place.” Terry just looked confused, as everybody shuffled out of the room. He turned to Doctor Cal and asked, “Why are they yelling at each other when they want to kiss?” All he and Kara could do was chuckle and shrug. Not for the first, or last time, Terrence Ward questioned the sanity of non-telepaths.


	4. Chapter 4

Skye made it back to her hotel before rush hour. On the elevator with her was a woman whose cheap, revealing dress obviously marked her as a call-girl. Call-Girl gave Skye a disapproving look. “Nice muffin top, dear,” she quipped as she got off one floor below Skye. Skye rolled her eyes and made her way to her hotel room. She wasn’t so sure about meeting Grant and her father later at the barbecue place, but maybe they both needed time to cool off. With a chill, she realized the tenuous position she had left the “Do Not Disturb” sign in on her door had been altered. She had her pistol out as she opened the door. Which was a good thing, as the HYDRA soldiers tried to get the drop on her. She was pinned down under the coffee table, when the door burst open behind her. 

That second she hesitated on seeing the call girl from the elevator was enough for the call girl to bring out the biggest damned pistol Skye had ever seen and plug the guy who had Skye pinned. The two of them managed to take two more HYDRA goons down before a suit called out, “Agent 33, understand that compliance will be rewarded.” The call girl, obviously Agent 33 in another mask, lowered her gun. “I am happy to comply,” she said distantly. Skye turned her aim at 33, But 33 brought the gun back up and took down two HYDRA agents who had broken cover “Oh, wait. No I’m not!” Agent 33 taunted back as she took down the suit. The two of them checked out the rest of Skye’s suite, then grabbed the suitcase off the bed and ran down the stairs as the elevator door opened to the sound of police radios. “That was awesome, Kara! I thought they had you for a minute there.” A nondescript sedan pulled up in front of them, and both women dived in the back with the suitcase. “Hi Daisy!” Skye’s father called from the front seat, “Sorry I couldn’t take you to Goode & Co. tonight. If HYDRA was in your room, the mole is obviously activated. We’re heading to Grant’s place.” The car stopped after about thirty minutes on a southbound journey at a gas station. Kara ran what looked like a keychain over the suitcase, and found the homing device. She and Skye smashed it, then put the suitcase in the trunk. They then headed the exact opposite direction, back to the north side. The sun was down by the time they reached the (by Houston standards) nondescript McMansion. Both Cal and Kara brought out remotes, and keyed in a code. The air shimmered, and the garage door opened. They parked the sedan, closed the garage door, then made their way into the house. 

Grant and Terry were playing something on their PS4, but had apparently stopped playing when the car had approached the perimeter. The living room showed signs of a hasty clean-up. “It’s just as you feared, Boss-Man,” Kara said, indicating Skye’s presence, “Fortunately, she hadn’t even unpacked before company dropped in, so I don’t have to go back out for a Wally run.” This brought chuckles from Terry and her father. Terry explained, “It seems to be Kara’s goal in life to appear on People of Wal-Mart.” Skye gave her a dubious look, “Doesn’t sound too covert to me.” Kara smiled, “Which is sort of the point. What kind of superspy goes to the store in pajama bottoms that hang off her butt, and a middle-aged face covered in glitter makeup? No way in Hell that chica’s a partner at Black Douglas Security. Must be some other lady, right?” Skye scratched her chin. She could see the logic. “You ought to see me as a hipster for my Whole Foods runs,” Grant added. Terry cringed and shook his head. “Way. Too. Embarrassing.” This had Skye in stitches.

Her father had brought both Skye’s bag, and a duffel bag of his own, from which he pulled a bottle. “If we’re going to have a slumber party here tonight, at least _I_ remembered the booze!” There was a small cheer as Grant took it into his kitchen to pour. He came back out with a tray of tumblers, and even one with a very small amount for Terry. “De-mystifies it all for him, and helps put booze in its proper social context,” Grant whispered as he gave Skye her glass, “With adult supervision.” They all settled on the sectional, and Skye asked, “So, is it you and Terry who live here, and the rest of you have places in the city?” The table pretty much nodded in unison. “Grant’s place has the best security, and we won’t be delayed by one of us having to take care of…company tomorrow morning,” Kara confirmed. “Barbecue is ordered,” Grant confirmed after clicking off his smartphone, “If we can’t go out, we’ll bring it to us!” Skye was puzzled, “How is the delivery guy supposed to drop it off with all the security here?” Terry finished his small cup and answered, “The walk to the porch is fenced, and the security at the front door can detect if the delivery guy has something other than barbecue in the bag. If he’s not who he seems, we can make cat food out of him. This is Texas, and a number of innocent delivery guys concealed-carry despite policy---so we use our discretion, conceal backup behind the door and all until the door closes. Innocent delivery guy stays on the walk, makes his delivery, and walks off. He does anything else, blam, blam.” Skye gave him a slightly-disapproving look. This was a lot for a sixteen-year-old to worry about. “I want to keep him off both SHIELD’s and HYDRA’s radar. And that means pulling him into the business. He’s actually not interested in field work, so he’s mostly logistics and IT.” 

Skye gave Terry a very interested look. “You wouldn’t happen to know about a hacker named Trauma who made a very good guess about Coulson’s password and stole a copy of Fitz’s medical record, would you?” Terry grinned broadly, and waved as if it were a greeting. “I actually asked for that information, Daisy,” Cal cut in, “I had to be sure his noted behavior and progress were normal, given his condition, so we could eliminate him as a suspect. We are going to need his help if we can save your brainwashed colleague. Simmons’s as well, if she’s not the subject. It took Terry there a lot more than I want to subject a sixteen-year-old to in order to break Kara’s conditioning. What we can give in exchange in part is support for an automated process to break the Faustus process. Something usable without a telepath at hand.” Terry finished the cracker he was nibbling on, “I was glad to help, Sir. I want to help people face things like their fears for a living.” Cal nodded, “I understand, Terry, but above all else, a telepath or any Gifted has a right to self-determination. SHIELD has no right to demand the services of telepathic Gifted. Especially if we can work with Doctors Fitz, Simmons, and Washington on another solution for the brainwashing problem they have.” He looked very pointedly at his daughter as he said this. It was almost as if he could see the conflict she often felt trying to use her own, non-telepathic powers. In between the nightmares about Grant crumbling into dust, and Trip actually having crumbled into dust, she often thought about the innocent janitor pulled from a building she had dropped on some HYDRA thugs two months, five days, and three hours ago. But who was counting? The food arrived, and Skye got to know everybody better, including her father. But Grant barely spoke to her. She and her father took the sectional in the living room. When she was sure he was asleep, Skye crept over to the door to Grant’s bedroom. Before she could even scratch on the door, he had it open. He motioned her in, so they would not disturb her father. 

“Guess I found the thing I could turn into that you can’t love.” It was out of her mouth before she could even think about it. Grant shook his head, “Wrong. I’m not happy with you right now, but I still love you. Your head tells you that loving me is wrong. But what does your heart say?” Skye tried to look angry with tearing-up eyes. “Why should I listen to my heart? I just get hurt every time I do. From every time a family sent me back to the orphanage, to finding out the man I was falling in love with was a traitor. My heart is an idiot.” Grant put his hands on her shoulders.   
“Have you really been happy just following your head? Giving up on being cared about for who you are, not what you can do for them? I personally have experience on that front. It sucks. Right now, I’m too afraid of another bullet in the side to let you get close to me. You are too afraid of some secret I have yet to tell you coming to bite us both on the butt again for you to let me get close to you. We both have a lot of trust to rebuild. But I want to rebuild it. Let me start with a promise: As long as I am free, of course, anywhere I go, I will make room for you. I first found you living in a van. I would prefer you try to find a home with me before living in a van again. You will always find a place to stay, and I won’t send you anywhere you don’t want to go.” Skye held him, shaking like a leaf. They stayed holding one another, like a slow dance. Eventually, Cal opened the door and gave the two of them a withering look. Skye hugged Grant and went back into the living room for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little less pain meds, a little more writing!

When the SUV made it to the airport, Skye hopped out of the front passenger seat, and went to the Quinjet by herself. After a few minutes, she emerged, nodded at the SUV, and then motioned them to a parking place within the SHIELD hanger. She let Grant and Kara set their own security on the vehicle, then herded everyone aboard the aircraft. They all took their places along the sides of the fuselage, and strapped in. After a couple of silent hours (by QuinJet standards), the jet landed, and Skye motioned everybody into what looked like an abandoned hanger. Inside was the entrance to the Playground. They went straight to Coulson’s office, where Coulson and Fitz tried not to look as if they had been waiting for hours. Grant decided to walk up to Coulson, but did not extend his hand. “Grant Ward, owner, Black Douglas Security. I was the one who advised you of this potential security breach.” Coulson did not look amused. “Save it, Ward, what are your terms?” Grant took a seat opposite Coulson, “The price I specified in my offer, plus amnesty for Palamas and Terrance Ward.” 

“Palamas I can give you. We found corroborating evidence of her brainwashing. But your nephew seems to have assaulted a certain respected SHIELD agent, and put her into long term mental health disability.” Skye turned to look at Terry with a frown, but Palamas cut in icily, “Herrera had it coming.” Coulson rolled his eyes, “Kara, I know Anna Herrera cheated on you with every other lesbian in SHIELD, but she did not deserve to be terrorized by someone who shapeshifted into her stepfather.” Kara smirked dangerously, “It’s not the infidelity that pissed me off as much as her…amateur acting gig. Terry, honey, I hate to ask you, but did you remember that video you saved?” Grant put a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Maybe this will help. This is a picture of Naomi Ward, my late sister.” Grant tossed a picture on the desk. Coulson frowned, while Fitz’s jaw practically hit the floor, but Grant continued, “Herrera was HYDRA, and Terry’s handler. She would pose as his mother in videos, always delivered to him by people who didn’t know otherwise. She’d pretend to be threatened, and ask Terry to perform acts for HYDRA. He didn’t even know his mother had died until Kara and I broke him out. I took him to see Herrera, so he would know. Things…got out of control.” Terry looked ashamed. He hated losing control like that. “I…was so angry. My mother was dead, and Herrera would have never let me know that. I don’t like hurting people. I know I’m very powerful and all, but I’d much rather become a therapist than an Agent or Specialist. She took that choice away from me, and made me hurt people, sir. Uncle Grant keeps me out of fights whenever he can. If he can’t, my role is to divert, rescue, and scram. He wants me to get amnesty because it will let me go to college in a couple of years.”

Coulson saw that Ward was willing to let the honest kid do the talking, so he pressed his advantage, “So why hasn’t your uncle asked for amnesty for his own deeds? You do know what he did to us, don’t you?” Terry nodded, and Grant and Kara both crossed their arms and gave Coulson the same defiant, “I don’t fear anything he has to say” look. “Sir, my uncle knows better than to expect it. He knows you could have used the knowledge of the brainwashed mole sooner than this, but he figures now is the best time to be able to do something about it. He doesn’t think you are able to see past the things he did on behalf of John Garrett, so he’s given up even asking. After all, the last time Miss Daisy shot Uncle Grant, she did it because she figured it was what you wanted.” Before the “Hey!” could leave her mouth, Terry looked at Skye and stated, “Neither of you are very quiet about it. Uncle Grant reminds you how close the whole HYDRA conspiracy came to you and your team. Uncle Grant will settle for no more bullets in his back. You will have to take taking down Garrett as your win on that score, Mister Coulson.” Coulson nodded and motioned Terrance to sit down. Even truth was best enjoyed in moderation.

“I have one term before we get started,” Fitz began, “Given my injury, I need a mechanically competent assistant to make the needed adjustments on the memory device. Can we have your telepath scan Mackenzie and be sure he’s not a sleeper? We are waiting for Steve Rogers to arrive tomorrow to help us when we scan May, so you should have some time to recover. If that’s okay with you…” Terrance smiled and nodded. “Everything I see I will have to hold in confidence, unless I see affiliation with HYDRA. And I will warn you, HYDRA likes to stash the shadow of their tinkering behind painful memories. Things an individual tries hard not to think about. I’m going to have to dredge up the worst memories of the people I scan. We know about the people Whitehall has had brainwashed, but Garrett or anybody else uses a different set of activation keys. So I have to go ‘under the hood’ to manually activate the alternate programming. You would probably be the best person to convey that to your friend.” Fitz nodded at Terry, and stepped out to fetch Mack.

By the time Melinda May entered Coulson’s office, she had had about enough of this secrecy. Ward was somehow brought on board, and nobody told her when or how. Everybody who knew anything, even Mack, was tight-lipped. And then she saw that damned kid. The one who assaulted Herrera. Of course the little bastard would be another Ward. Coulson stepped in between them. “Melinda, do you trust me?” She gave him a hooded look. “Do I trust anybody? What the Hell is all this? And why isn’t that little monster locked up next to his uncle?” Skye took this one, “Because there are bigger monsters out there, May.” She had an open laptop. On it Herrera was making some kind of speech to her son(?) telling him what a good boy he was in helping the HYDRA soldiers escape Cybertek. Ward flipped over an enlarged portrait of a woman who could be Herrera’s twin, with a caption, “Naomi Ward 1986-2006.” May squeezed her eyes shut, and the fight drained out of her. She had always thought of Anna Herrera as one of her best students, but the evidence was irrefutable: Somehow, somewhere, Herrera took a wrong turn, and she almost couldn’t blame the sheepish-looking teenager for taking his revenge. Coulson took one hand, and Steve Rogers took the other, as Ward and Agent 33 took out their weapons to check them. “You guys can relax now. I’m not on the warpath. I just want to know….why?” Terrance looked at her reassuringly as both men squeezed her hands and guided her to a restraint chair.

“Director Coulson told me you were a big fan of Babylon 5. Miss Kara is also a big fan. She says you turned her on to the series back at the Academy,” the kid began, “Do you remember the episode ‘Divided Loyalties?’ Where Lyta had a telepathic password that would reveal PsiCorps’s sleeper on the station?” May put two and two together. The restraint chair, the telepathic kid, and the nervous muscle and firepower in the room. Terry, being a telepath, nodded. “She understands, guys. It may not even be you, ma’am. But we can’t let you escape, harm us, or yourself if it is.” Agent 33 stepped forward, and grabbed her left hand as she placed the restraints. Fitz ran some instrument over her mouth and body. “Mel, if those bastards did this to you, everybody in this room will do everything within our power to get it out of you. If not, I have a bottle of chardonnay with both our names on it. I’ve been where you might be. I’m free now, and I want you to be free, too. Terry helped me a lot with that. He’s a good kid.” Steve took her left hand back and squeezed it, “Miss May, he’s going to have to go into parts of your mind you don’t want to think about. Because that’s where the signs of the brainwashing would hide.” Terry took her right hand from Coulson as he checked her restraint. “Anything I see that isn’t HYDRA-related I will keep in the strictest confidence. I’m not your prosecutor, I’m not your judge. I’m just a bomb-sniffing dog.” May nodded, “Do what you have to do.”


	6. Chapter 6

Half the Chardonnay bottle was gone, as May and a veiled Kara Palamas stood vigil outside the operating room. Doctor Cal and Fitz were removing two suicide capsules from Jemma she had no conscious memory of having had installed. There was no time to comfort Jemma, or try to get her to understand. Once May was eliminated as a suspect, the team quickly subdued Jemma, before she could run or harm herself. Steve Rogers was nominally their sober adult supervision, but he kept his nose in his iPad. The two older women were old friends, and May needed Kara to help her understand that Jemma was going to be okay more than anyone needed him right now. He figured he would slip off and join Coulson after he was done with the comments on this one last article.

“So now you have your life back, I take it you want your old spot with SHIELD, Kara?”  
“No, actually. You know how it is, Mel. You find a good team, you fight like Hell to stay with them. I know you hate Grant, but you have to admit, he can plan an op better than anybody else.”  
“I’ll give you that, Kara. He was the best. Hell, at least he’s not HYDRA anymore. I should be thankful for small favors.”

Fitz emerged from the OR, slightly shaky. “Oh, you guys are all still here. I’m just grabbing a snack before going back in there. Walk with me.” All three followed Fitz to the kitchen as he advised them Jemma was going to be okay, at least physically. But it would be a few more hours before Cal was done. “Cal can do it quickly, or do it right, as he says. He has to remove the capsule in her cheekbone the hard way, so the scar won’t show. And it will be 24 hours after she’s off the anesthetic before we can ethically have Terry…activate her.” Both women gave Fitz a squeeze on the shoulders as May finished a grilled-cheese sandwich. “Terry’s sleeping it off on my couch anyway,” May admitted. “Since he saw everything that happened, I figured we’d be up half the night last night talking about Bahrain. He kept nodding off, but given my ex’s line of work, I knew I wasn’t boring him, he was just getting a hangover. So I made him my famous White Cocoa, stuffed my vitamins, fish oil, and herbs down his gullet, and tucked him in on the couch.” 

Steve took this opportunity not to follow the ladies back to the waiting room, and slipped off to Coulson’s office. They talked for a few more hours, until late into the night, when Doctor Cal stumbled into the office without bothering to knock. “Evening, gentlemen. Surgery’s done, Mack practically dragged Fitz off to get some sleep, and he and Terry are watching Jemma now. Daisy and Grant are arguing again, and all is right with the world. You wouldn’t happen to have any Scotch, would you?” Steve stood between the two men, Coulson suddenly becoming tense. “Grant told me he left his Bushmills here. You didn’t drink it all, did you?” Oblivious to the tension, Cal sprawled onto the chair across from Coulson’s desk. “Doctor, as much as we appreciate your services at our time of need, with all due respect, you tried to kill me when we were last alone together,” Coulson finally said. Cal chuckled and shook his head. “Phil, you shot the guy I wanted to kill, and you keep telling my Daisy that I’m a psychotic monster, long after you should have known the guy who told you I was a psychotic monster was full of shit. What did you expect? But I’ve had some time to think it over, and someone wise beyond his years to think it over with. He told me that in 1989, if John Garrett said I was a psychotic monster, you had no reason to believe otherwise. Hell, if anybody told you he was HYDRA back then, you’d have had him thrown in the funny farm. You didn’t know enough to know you were wrong.” 

Cal had stood up, and was offering Coulson his hand. Reluctantly, Phil Coulson shook it. A genuine smile broke across Cal’s face, a reminder where Daisy/Skye had really gotten that beautiful smile of hers. “Cal, can I at least have an admission from you that the steps I took to keep Daisy off everyone’s radar kept her away from Whitehall when she was at her most vulnerable?” Cal nodded as he shook Phil’s hand again. “Given.” Steve went for the liquor cabinet, as the two men relaxed and sat back down. “Sk- I mean Daisy should not have to choose between us. You gave her life, and I have done my best to protect it. That Terry really is wise beyond his years.” Cal’s face went very serious, and he shook his head. “I’m not talking about Terry. I’m talking about a fifteen-year-old kid back in 1999 who believed Garrett, and only learned better the hard way. I’m talking about Terry’s uncle.” Both Steve’s and Phil’s jaws hit the floor in shock. “Garrett recruited Ward from the Academy back in 2005. SHIELD doesn’t recruit fifteen-year-olds. At best, we place a minor with Specialist potential at a ‘finishing school,’” Coulson objected. Cal was unflappable. “You saw with your own eyes that HYDRA was happy to recruit an eight-year old Terrance Ward. Why would they hesitate to recruit a fifteen-year-old Grant?” Cal went into a high-pitched, mocking tone, “Oh Grant-y. That’s so sad about your family wanting to throw you in prison. Only _I_ care about you, Grant-y. Won’t you prove you love me too? Become HYDRA for me, Grant-y?” Cal’s face darkened, and his voice became a growl. “The only damned difference between uncle and nephew is that the con went on longer for Grant! Holy shit, he never told you this?” All Steve and Phil could do with their jaws hanging open in shock was shake their heads. Cal served himself a second glass of Scotch. “You were probably making him think Daisy was dead or captured at that point. He told me he clammed up when you started to play that game. He wanted to make sure she was alive, and as far away from the tip of the spear as possible. That’s why he started saying he’d only talk to her.”

Steve broke the uncomfortable silence that followed, “How do you know Grant didn’t lie to you?” Cal gave Steve an indulgent smile. “Terry is an honest young man. He can’t lie to me, and nobody can lie to him. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, Grant’s been on a truth-telling spree. Told me once he’s told too many lies, and wanted to see where the truth took him. Got him shot in the back, it seems.” Steve recovered first. “Is there a way we can document what Cal just told us?” he asked Phil, who cocked his head thoughtfully.


	7. Chapter 7

Terry ran into the next room, and found Fitz halfway in the machine, doing a last check of his calibrations. “Doctor Fitz, Doctor Jemma and Mister Mack have something to tell you first. Alone.” Fitz rolled the bed out, shrugged his shoulders, wiped his hands, and stepped outside the room. Jemma was restrained on a gurney, with Mack holding her hand. “Leo, while I somewhat have my right mind, I need to tell you this. My working theory on when HYDRA got to me was…Ward thought he was doing me a favour. He got fixed so young, and without any kids. So I asked for his help to do the same for me. I sequenced my DNA and everything after watching both brothers of mine die. I am a carrier for two major birth defects. The doctor in question, of course, was HYDRA. But I know how you feel about family, and I didn’t want to be a disappointment. You’ll forget about me, and find someone who can have all those babies.” Jemma began to cry. Terry piped in, “Uncle Grant feels awful about it. He really was trying to help Doctor Jemma.” Fitz waved him off. “Jem, Have we not spent all this time with our friend Daisy, Skye, whatever she calls herself now? Aren’t there all sorts of places like Saint Agnes full of all kinds of kids a lot like our friend? So a relationship with you means I have to adopt. So what? You canna disappoint me, Jem. It’s just not very probable, here. We’re going to get you through it. Even Ward’s trying to help in his own way.” Mack smiled, and squeezed Jemma’s hand. “Told you so, Jem.” Jemma squeezed back, pointedly. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell him, too. Fitz, my brother, who you never met, he had an awful breakup with his girlfriend. Everybody took her side of things, and he acted like he was all cool with it, until the moment he killed himself. I over-read your situation, Fitz. And I’d be glad to see y’all get back together.” There were hugs all around, then Fitz retired to do one more check of the equipment, with Terry reading out the checklist. 

As Mack rolled Jemma into the room, everybody was standing vigilant. Ward and May were in charge of transferring Jemma from the medical gurney to the one in the machine. Terry cried out, but not quickly enough for Ward to dodge the scalpel Jemma had secreted. She managed to stab and slash him multiple times before May punched her out and pushed Ward away. Cal grabbed Daisy quickly, “Breathe in NOW, fill your lungs. Now exhale. Keep that up, and _I will be sure he’s okay_.” He handed her off to Coulson, as he dashed forward to tend Grant. “Cal’s right, honey. Keep your powers in check. Don’t mess up the machine. I don’t judge you for worrying about him. Let’s get to Sickbay.” May finished restraining an unconscious Jemma, and Terry ran after the gurney, which now carried Ward.

Terry and Coulson herded Daisy into the observation room, as Cal went to work on Grant. “Terry sighed next to them. “She knew where to stab, but she wasn’t strong enough. Doctor Cal thinks he can pull this one off. So Miss Daisy, I want you to listen to me. Miss May has taught you to meditate, and you need to meditate right now. I’m as upset as you are. That’s the one uncle I have who has ever given a damn about me as a person. But you can’t shake things and jog Doctor Cal’s hand, or mess up the machine in the next room, so you need to meditate, now. That’s it.” He helped Daisy assume a seat on the floor, and helped start her mantras. Terry twitched his hands at Coulson, in imitation of using a _mala_. Coulson walked into the next room, and asked May where she kept her _mala_. He came back to see Terry and Daisy facing one another, serenely chanting together. He quietly slipped the beads into each hand, and noticed the tears on both cheeks. A couple of hours later, Cal entered the observation room, and noticed that Coulson was the only one observing. “When you’re able to, um, tell them Grant is going to be okay. He’s on bed rest for a few days, if someone can keep him in that bed.” Both Terry and Daisy opened their eyes with tear-filled smiles. Coulson smirked, “When it comes to dealing with Grant Ward, don’t play fair. Daisy, your assignment is taking care of Grant. He’s on bed rest. Can you keep him there? And good on you both for keeping a lid on the shaking.” Terry produced some baby wipes from a pocket, and both he and Daisy wiped their faces. They gave each other a hug before Terry went back into the room to help with the deprogramming, and Daisy went to the recovery room with Grant.

The next twelve hours were exhausting for everyone on the base. Lance and Bobbi had to hold down the fort with Coulson, May had to supervise Jemma’s body, as Terry had to supervise her mind. Mack and Fitz ran the machine, and Daisy cared for Grant. Everybody went back to their respective places exhausted. Coulson and Cal walked into Grant’s recovery room, to find Grant’s feet twice their normal size with two or three socks over the TED hose, Daisy snuggled up to Grant, covered in all the blankets. Grant quickly put a finger over his lips, as if to tell the two older men, “I only just got her to sleep.” Cal quietly checked Grant over. His wounds were clean and healing, and having Daisy in there was doing good things for his pulse-ox and level of relaxation. Even Daisy seemed to be sleeping better in Grant’s presence. Cal absently patted his daughter’s back, as Grant snuggled her closer for the night. As he joined Coulson in the observation room, he sighed. “She’s not a little girl anymore, is she, Phil? She’s a woman now.” Phil patted Cal on the shoulder, and guided him off for a nightcap, before both barely made it to their own beds to crash.

Late in the night, the dream she hated even worse than the ones with Trip and Ward dying came. In this dream, the little boy had just wiggled himself up to a seated position after a stinky diaper change. His smiling eyes met hers. They were that odd brown-black color two brown-eyed parents occasionally produced, which matched the shock of jet-black hair on the toddler’s head. She had just washed her hands, and the little guy wanted to be picked up. That’s when she noticed her stomach was already round with the kid’s unborn brother or sister, so she had to settle for on-the-ground cuddles with the little boy. “Wuv oo Ma-Ma,” the little boy said into her ear. Usually, this was where Skye/Daisy would wake up, alone in a cold bed in her own room. Where she could feel the rest of the universe laughing at her for thinking she deserved something this wonderful. But this time, she woke up warm, to the sound of a slower, louder heartbeat, and a comforting, familiar scent. She looked up to find that this time, she wasn’t alone. Figuring nobody could see her, she cuddled Grant more closely, but she pulled on a stitch or something, because he woke up, and planted a kiss on the top of her head. He placed her hands in a less-painful way, then tucked her back under the blanket. Paradoxically, it just got her to start crying. Grant rocked her as much as he could in a hospital bed, but she broke free. She was supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around. Grant kept a hand on her back, and when she could see him again through her veil of tears, Grant looked like the day so long ago, when he had accidentally hurt her during a practice. As if he wanted the Earth to swallow him whole right then and there. “Grant, it’s nothing you did. I just get these dreams. It’s like the Universe teasing me with something that can’t ever happen. In that dream, I have a young son. He’s…he’s perfect. And I’m having another baby. I’m happy. Just happy.” She started crying again. Grant took her hand. “What part of that is something you can’t have, Skye?” She curled back up on his chest. “Oh, the part where I need to protect people who are already alive. Maybe the part where keeping me away from people who wanted to vivisect me took the resources of an intact SHIELD, and any kids I would have would be on all the wrong peoples’ radars.” She started crying even harder. “Maybe the part where you had just shot in the back a guy more than happy to be those kids’ father?” Grant supplied helpfully. This just made her cry harder, but he could feel her nod against his chest. “Shh, shh, okay, that was a low blow, please don’t shake my stitches out, honey. Please.” Almost involuntarily, she began the in-and-out, slow, calm breathing. She had not even felt herself losing control. Grant enlisted her help to get the blanket that had fallen to the floor. She put it over his feet, and started to look for a seat. Grant shook his head. “Nope, I’m going to wrap you back up, and we are both sleeping in. You take good care of me, and I will take good care of you. My feet are warm enough.” 

In the morning, Fitz stopped by the room, a pair of muffins and coffees in hand. “Monitors show you two had a rough night. You up for breakfast?” Grant nodded, “She had a rougher night than I did.” He shook the sleeping woman in his arms gently. For a moment, both were at the right angle for Fitz to see the tearstains on both cheeks. “Fitz brought us breakfast. You want some?” Daisy startled a bit, seeing Fitz with the tray and a smile. “Come now, Yer both clothed, and you’ve always been sweet on one another. Jem’s going to be okay. We think we made a breakthrough late last night, and Terry’s gonna help test it, once he’s feeling better.” Grant could manage only half of his muffin, and gave the rest to a ravenous Skye. “I don’t mean to gross you out, but has Grant done a Number Two since the stabbing?” Both of them shook their heads. Fitz tapped something on his phone, and Doctor Cal popped in. The two of them talked for a moment. They agreed to up the IV fluids, add another pill, and made sure that Grant could go to the bathroom without help beyond getting out of and back into bed. “Yer off bedpan duty, lass,” Fitz said with a smile. “But make sure he eats something with some protein in it while the rest of us are dealing with Jem, okay? She will totally understand.” 

While Grant was in the bathroom, showing Cal that he was able to manage his own tubes and wires, Skye turned to Fitz. “I know you hate him for what he did to you. He hates what he did to you, for what it’s worth. I feel like I’m the most co-dependent person in the world for still loving him, but I love him. I think I always will.” Fitz smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know what to make of Grant anymore. He’s the reason I’m damaged, but I think if we had known all this about Jemma while I was going through all this…it would have killed me. Ward brought this to me at a point when I could do something about it. With everything at hand I would need to do something effective about it. Like I said, ye have always been sweet on one another. Heck, he was probably supposed to pick up where Garrett left off in HYDRA. But he didn’t, because he loves you.” With a start, she realized Fitz was probably right. They were interrupted by Ward and Cal walking out of the bathroom, Cal checking on Ward’s handling of the tubes and wires. Daisy helped him into the bed, and planted a kiss on his forehead, on the scar from his suicide attempt, and Fitz and Cal then went off to work on Jemma.


	8. Chapter 8

When Fitz and Cal came back to Ward’s room, Skye was again curled on Ward’s lap. But a bit of the shirt that showed above the blanket was different from the one she wore that morning, and her hair was not dirtier. There was also the fading scent of blown-out scented candles, which Fitz saw near the bathroom door. When Fitz had insisted on a meal before checking on Ward, Cal noticed a certain marinated vegetable salad he had grown to like was gone. Fitz assured him that the only people at the Playground who liked it were May, Ward, and Cal himself. What was missing was more than May could have eaten, so this was yet another hopeful sign. But as peaceful as Daisy looked, asleep on Grant’s lap, he needed to confirm a few things. 

“Grant? Hey, Grant.” Grant started to wake up at the familiar voice. “What’s up, Doc?” Grant muttered sleepily, tired enough not to modulate the Boston accent out of his voice. The chuckling from Fitz and Cal was enough to wake Daisy, who gave Grant an odd look. “What?” This only caused the other three to laugh even harder. Finally, Fitz could catch a breath and answer. “Bugs Bunny, mate. All you needed was a carrot.” “And an accent more Brooklyn than Boston,” Skye chimed in. Grant smiled, finally in on what the others found funny. Cal quickly checked the wounds, typed out a set of restrictions, verified he had been able to eat, manage his pain, and go to the bathroom unaided, then waggled a finger in Grant’s face. “HEY! This place is for sick and injured people. Get back to your quarters. Doctor’s orders!” 

Grant smiled as he sat up for Cal to remove the tubes and wires, then tried to pull Skye with him. Cal shook his head and asked Skye to help him clean up the med pod. As they finally had it ready for its next occupant (whenever that would be), Coulson showed up, with a bottle of something in the hand that was out of Skye’s sight. “I’m about to have a bed to myself in my quarters, Phil,” Skye declined, “But thanks for asking.” Cal was the one to correct her, “Actually, it’s Phil’s and my nightcap.” Skye regarded them both with confusion. “Don’t you guys hate each other? I can’t believe you are drinking buddies.” Both men chuckled, “Quanesha-er, Doctor Q is stuck at The Reef with her patient, who is more critical than Simmons right now,” Cal explained, “Which means the only MDs available for this misadventure are myself and the patient. And contrary to Shakespeare, physicians don’t heal thyself.” Coulson clapped Cal on the shoulder and added, “We came to an understanding. Cal’s actually pretty good at translating medicalese to English for a Muggle like me, so I understand what is going on with Simmons.” Skye finished dumping the dirty sheets in a hamper and asked, “When can I see her? How has she been doing?” Cal shrugged, “She’s been Miss Night Owl since the attack on Prince Charming, so she’s probably still up.” Coulson shook his head, though, “I’m not sure she’s in a state in which you want to see her. She remembers the brainwashing, but she’s not broken it yet. If you can believe it, she stabbed Ward because, in her words, he let Garrett die.” Skye’s eyes were wide with shock. Both her “dads” gave her a “yeah, seriously” nod. Cal poked Coulson in the chest. “Wait a minute, I think Kara is probably still up. It’s Bobbi’s turn to watch Jemma in the cell, May had to Skype with her mom because her mom is getting Lasik tomorrow morning. Terry crashes on May’s couch, but he can sleep through anything. Kara would be the one to talk to if she wants to talk to Simmons. I think she was playing something Bollywood on her laptop when I walked by there. So if you want to talk to Simmons, Daisy, talk to Kara first.” Skye nodded, and headed to the guest suite.  
She found Kara sitting at the guest desktop open, with one tab on some kind of news site, and the other on YouTube. She somehow had managed to curl up in a ball on the computer chair, an inscrutable look on her face. When she noticed Skye, she painted a happier face on. “Hey, Daisy! Just winding down before hitting the rack. Grant’s still up.” Skye sat down on the sofa behind her, and Kara turned to face her. “It’s actually you I’m here to talk to. I want to see Jemma.” The same expression Kara had when Skye walked in came back. “She’s…she’s not herself. Trust me, I know first-hand.” Skye nodded, “Dad said she remembers the brainwashing, but still thinks she’s loyal?” Kara gave an ironic smile. “Oh, yes. Cognitive Dissonance City. Population: you. It’s when the suicidal feelings really kick in. It’s not pretty, and you’re not a nice person. Frankly, it’s the worst way you can see another person…” she broke off the thought, but Skye prompted her to continue, “But anybody who doesn’t run screaming is a friend for life. Come on, kid. Let me get decent.”

A laptop sat next to Bobbi on her side of the barrier, as Jemma sat in front of a well-chained-down iMac on her side of the Vault D barrier. Skye figured Jemma’s computer was on the Guest network while Bobbi’s was on the main SHIELD wireless network. From what the two women were calling back and forth, apparently Bobbi was calling out information on something biological to Jemma from a resource Skye had locked away from the Guest network for being too insecure. Bobbi was a pretty decent scientific mind herself, and Jemma seemed to be her old self, focusing on something that was not about her brainwashing, HYDRA, or other such painful subjects. Before Jemma could see Skye, Kara pushed her out the door, and went over to talk to Bobbi. Skye couldn’t hear what Kara and Bobbi discussed, but Bobbi called out to Jemma, “You at a stopping place yet? You have a visitor. Jemma typed on the keyboard a little more with her handcuffed hands, then sat back and put her hands in her lap as Bobbi typed something on her laptop and Jemma’s iMac went through the shutdown sequence. Jemma scooted over to the barrier as best she could in the swivel chair with shackled feet. As Skye walked into Vault D again, the look on Jemma’s face was poisonous. 

“You ruined everything, Skye,” Jemma began, “And you weren’t even trying. You wrapped Grant around your little finger. And he forgot, for that critical moment, everything John Garrett did for him.” Skye was about to snap back about how John Garrett had ordered Fitz and Jemma herself killed, but she caught Kara’s eye, and Kara slowly shook her head. Skye decided to let Jemma rave on. 

Upstairs, in May’s quarters, May had just signed off the Skype session with her mother and her mother’s neighbor. The Jemma situation was pretty critical, but according to Doctor Q, so was the newly-captured Winter Soldier’s situation. There was going to be no calling in extra resources to deal with Jemma while Melinda could fly out to drive her mom to and from the eye doctor’s. She felt awful, leaving her mother in the hands of her neighbors, but she had no choice at this juncture. Suddenly, the blanket-covered lump on her couch sat bolt-upright, and said, “Oh SHIT!” Terry shook his head to clear it. “Sorry A-yi. Something’s going down in the Vault, and I think we need to get there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A-yi means "auntie" in Chinese.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LANGUAGE WARNING

When May and Terry made it down to Vault D, both still in pajamas, the walls were shaking as Skye cried in Ward’s arms, Jemma and Ward were both purple-faced and yelling at one another, Bobbi was frantically trying to message everybody, Mack was confused, but both Kara and Fitz stood between Jemma and Grant with brilliant smiles on their faces. Uncle Grant’s pain and anger were pounding on Terry’s shields, so he figured it was up to him to set things in motion. “Fitz! You know what to do from here!” Terry called out, “Tranq Simmons and get her back in that machine. You don’t need me to find the artificial stuff. Let her personality neutralize it! I’ll handle my uncle!” Kara grabbed for the tranq gun as Mack ran for the gurney.

Coulson, Hunter, and Johnson had just made it into Vault D, as Grant was shouting at Jemma, “FUCK you bitch, FUCK fucking Garrett, and FUCK the FUCKING FUCK out of HYDRA!” Jemma responded, “You disloyal piece of SHIT! You KNEW what Garrett needed and you were going to keep it from him because you are a selfish son of a BITCH! You deserved to die in those wood…” Jemma slumped over as Kara put the tranq gun down, and she and Mack began to strap Jemma to the gurney. Fitz walked up to Ward, who was holding Skye and crying. “It’s not her, mate. Jem is the most ethical scientist I ever knew. Anything that turned her like that isn’t her. We’re going to use the machine to extract it and let Jemma’s own personality and ethics destroy it and anything in her mind linked to it. Thank you. Thank you both.” He turned to head out the door, calling dibs on the first cup of coffee. A long night was about to get longer, but there was going to be something to show for it.

Before Cal could escape, Coulson grabbed him, “Care to explain what happened?” Cal shrugged. After all, he walked in when Coulson did, and was not the telepath, here. “You’d have to get details from Terry, but I suspect Jemma’s, Skye’s and Ward’s skirmish shook loose something contradictory enough to Jemma’s actual personality that they are finally on the scent of where Garrett had to force the greatest personality change in Simmons to get her to comply. If that makes sense to you. The most pernicious part of the Faustus Protocol is how it makes the ‘new’ personality dependent on simply a slightly altered mental foundation. Unless you find that foundation, simply going around and destroying bad memories and thought patterns breaks more than it fixes. Make sure there is naproxen and…” Cal looked at his tablet, “Eletriptan in stock, if you have it, Sumatriptan is okay if you don’t. This long on the machine, even for a good cause, would give anybody the migraine from Hell. Not to mention a couple of migraineurs on both our teams who are about to lose even more sleep tonight.” Coulson nodded. He was going to get the story from Terry, who was quietly talking to his uncle, but before he did yet another shift watching the comm lines, he would make sure Medbay was ready for the aftermath. Cal headed off to deal with Simmons, and Coulson approached Terry, Ward, and Skye. 

Coulson startled when Terry morphed into a blood-soaked, gray-skinned Skye with dead eyes, wrapped in surgical sheets. “Uncle Grant, Aunt Skye, please stop. You’re both causing me to lose control here.” Both of them shrank away from Terry, who started to close his eyes and meditate to try and get control back. Coulson saw his opportunity while this was happening. “What happened here? Are you both okay?” “Physically,” Skye managed to choke out between sobs. Ward was shaking like a leaf, and it wasn’t in rhythm with the slight rumble Skye was causing. “Did Jemma threaten Skye?” Coulson asked. Ward shook his head. After a minute composing himself, after holding Skye even more tightly to himself, he finally answered, “There was a reason Garrett had Jemma brainwashed, sir. Did Cal tell you what happened to Skye’s mother? Garrett knew. Skye was his contingency plan when I couldn’t get him a sample of GH-325.” Ward finally looked Coulson in the eye. “That would have happened over my dead body, sir. And the incident with Thomas Nash clinched it in Garrett’s mind. Garrett….he used me. He used Jemma, and he was going to use Skye.” Grant and Skye started to cry again, and Phil put a hand on both backs to comfort them. After about a minute, Terry tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m okay now, sir. Doctor Cal told you to check stocks of migraine meds. Get Doctor Q on the horn too, or someone with an actual degree and license. I’ll help them as much as I can, but Doctor Cal is going to recommend both Ward and Simmons be put on suicide prevention protocols until an actual shrink clears them.” Coulson nodded and left, as Terry began to talk to his aunt and uncle again. 

Skye could feel the field in Vault D go down, as a rather bedraggled Terry ran up with a videophone for the two of them. Jemma’s items were removed from the cell, as she was chained to her bed in a darkened, silent pod in Medlab. Grant was himself shackled to the bed. Skye had managed to persuade Terry to let her stay with Grant in the vault until Doctor Q could clear him. As the videophone came into view, the handsome black woman on the other line quirked a slight smile. “I didn’t know psychiatric nursing was one of your talents, Agent Johnson.” She punctuated the joke with a yawn. It had been a long night all around, at both The Playground and The Reef. “Let me talk to Grant, honey. After I talk to him, I’m going to demolish a breakfast taco, and examine the insides of my eyelids until either Simmons or Barnes wake up.” Skye nodded, and held the phone up to Grant. For the next few minutes, Doctor Q’s professionalism overcame her exhaustion, and she evaluated Grant’s likelihood of committing suicide. In the end, she called for Terry to “get this guy’s ass back in his own bed and call me when Jemma is better.” Skye walked Grant back to the guest suite, where he was dead asleep before he could invite Skye to stay. Skye herself didn’t even shower before crawling into her own bunk.


	10. Chapter 10

The utter, sheer, indescribable Hell that was Jemma’s migraine relented just enough to let her know how hungry she was. Jemma could finally tap the control to turn the lighting up a bit. She could then notice the napkin-covered dish on the table next to her bed. She removed the napkin to reveal some shortbread and a couple of sherbet lemons. Jemma eagerly ate the cookies, and let one of the sherbet lemons dissolve in her mouth. Next to the plate was a glass of something in a cooling device. Hesitantly, Jemma took a sip. The notes of ginger and lemon were overwhelming, but as Jemma was thirsty, she kept sipping the drink. It actually helped quite a bit. She thought as soon as she was worth a damn, she’d get on the migraine-adjusted computer in the isolation pod and ask for the recipe. She barely finished the “toothbrush gum” Fitz had left by the plate before falling back into a deep sleep. She awoke some hours later well enough for a chat on the computer.

 

“ _Who’s ^_?” Biochem87 typed. A response came from DirtyTree, “ _Me, but I feel like shit. I just feel un-shiteous enough to type. No idea what time it is, but if it’s just you and me, it’s probably late._ ” Jemma had noticed the food and drink were refreshed. “ _Yeah, at least they brought more of that gingery stuff._ ” DirtyTree replied “ _My recipe. All natural, and it won’t interact with the medications…_ ” They chatted for a bit longer, before they each drifted back off. When Jemma woke up again, the earplugs were finally annoying. Which usually meant she was okay to hear sound again. A few minutes after she had taken out the earplugs and began eating some more, she could hear the outer door to the isolation chamber close, and the inner one open. Jemma was too strung out from the remnants of the migraine to hide her reaction when it was Dr Johnson who entered the chamber with her, instead of Fitz. Cal was all smiles. “How are you doing, Dr Simmons? We can see your appetite and sound tolerance is getting better. Let’s test light tolerance.” He turned the light up enough to see the look on Jemma’s face. “Daisy isn’t mad and neither is Grant. And I’m not mad either. You don’t seem like a mad vivisector in my professional opinion. And I’ve actually read all the stuff you have published. Don’t go beating yourself up over what might have happened, because it didn’t happen. Besides, you have got to tell me how you and Fitz put this chamber together…”

 

Grant and Skye began taking meals together, and being together a lot, so it took Bobbi’s skill to finally get Skye on her own to go talk to Coulson. Apparently, Coulson wanted Skye to track down the financials on a particular HYDRA agent. Two days later, Fitz, Bobbi, and Hunter were dispatched to Wyoming. They came back, tight-lipped, with a report for Phil Coulson. Skye started to avoid Grant more, but after Kara had a moment with May, Kara was keeping Grant’s anger and curiosity in check. The next day, everybody gathered in Coulson’s office.

 

“The payment has been made into the account Mister Ward has designated as being for Black Douglas Security. Distribution of the funds to employees is up to the company. You have been paid in full. Now to the matter of legal amnesty for Kara Palamas, Terrance Ward, and Grant Ward.” Grant startled at hearing his name mentioned. “Don’t be overly surprised, Mister Ward. In part, the amnesty is to justify our using your services, which is otherwise prohibited by law. The story about your having been recruited at fifteen seemed to be yet another lie, until we did some forensic accounting, and DNA testing of some trash middens in a certain piece of property John Garrett had never disclosed he had owned. A piece of property near Sheridan, Wyoming.” Even Grant could not help but react to this news. Coulson continued, “Given conditions there, we knew there would be some degradation of any DNA, but we were able to find that someone with whom you share a Y chromosome and mitochondria had occupied the land for a period of about five years, ending somewhere about a decade ago. We found the skeleton of a dog, killed with a sniper bullet, and the deed on the land belonging to a shell corporation ultimately owned by John Garrett. Furthermore, we found a payment we could link to your father to an account of John Garrett’s some time in 1999, shortly before your “escape” from Juvie.” Skye ran up and barely caught Grant, as he collapsed onto a chair. “Oh, my God, Grant, you didn’t know that?” Grant stared ahead blankly, “John told me the quartermaster at my military school was the one who pointed me out. But I guess my dad paying Garrett to take me away makes sense, now. I was just an embarrassment.” Skye wrapped her arms around him, as Coulson continued, “We were prepared from the beginning to grant Terrance his amnesty. It was obvious that by impersonating his late mother, HYDRA was taking advantage of a kid. And Doctor Johnson was right about you, Grant. You are what happened when the scam that ensnared Terry was allowed to go on for fifteen years. We can have restitution ordered for your victims by a court, but once that is settled, we can see about amnesty, and working further with Black Douglas Security. A cheer roared from the Black Douglas employees, and Grant was shaking like a leaf as he held Skye to his chest.

 

Some months later, on a day many Houstonians would consider cold, a figure in a fedora and long jacket knocked on the door of Grant Ward’s house. Terrance opened the door, recognized Skye, and saw something in her mind that caused him to blush. He called out, “Uncle Grant, I think I’m going to get dinner with Joey before the concert, and the visitor is for you.” Terry practically vanished out the door to the garage, as a shirtless Grant in a pair of sweatpants trudged to the front door. He brightened up and shooed Skye into the house. “Hi Grant, Coulson needs your services again….” She took her coat off as she heard Terry drive down the street, revealing the black lace lingerie underneath, “But he won’t be here until tomorrow…”


End file.
